


heaven help the fool who falls in love

by wearealltalesintheend



Category: Batwoman (TV 2019), DC Extended Universe, DCU, Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bisexual Kara Danvers, F/F, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Humor, Light Angst, Pining, Post-Crisis on Infinite Earth, The Mortifying Ordeal of Being Known
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-24
Updated: 2020-01-24
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:48:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22379725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wearealltalesintheend/pseuds/wearealltalesintheend
Summary: “So, another megalomaniac, yeah, that tracks,” she shrugs, heat pooling behind her eyes, when a blur flies past her, black and red and as fast as a bat. Kara blinks, huffs. “Oh, come on! Again?”“Sorry, blondie,” Kate throws her a smirk. Never let it be said Batwoman isn’t scarily efficient. “This one’s one of mine.”Rolling her eyes, Kara lands in front of her, arms crossed and the best grumpy expression she can manage. “I had it covered, you know.”“Yeah, I don’t doubt it,” she says, pocketing her Batarang in her belt, and okay, it’s been only a week since the Crisis, but Kara had forgotten how it felt to be at the end of Kate’s whole laser-focus. Is this how people feel when she uses her laser vision? She hopes not, it’s very odd to feel like this– like she’s lighting up from the inside out, a whole forest fire sparking somewhere in her chest.Truthfully, it might just be the turkey sandwich she had earlier, the mayo had tasted a bit off, after all.*Or, life goes on after Crisis; Kara adjusts to a whole new world, Kate navigates having more than one friend in her life, and things more or less fall into place like they usually do with them-- in a very dramatic way.
Relationships: Alex Danvers & Kara Danvers, Barry Allen & Kara Danvers, Kara Danvers & Nia Nal, Kara Danvers/Kate Kane
Comments: 13
Kudos: 271





	heaven help the fool who falls in love

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so here's the thing-- I haven't watched Batwoman yet, but I did watch the Crossover and her dynamic with Kara was probably the best thing out of those episodes. Seriously, it was impossible not to ship. It's been a while since I wrote a fic that wasn't answering a prompt, so, let's see how this goes! 
> 
> As always, a shout out to [Rachel](cyclone-rachel.tumblr.com) for being an amazing beta!
> 
> So, I hope I'm doing them both justice, and that y'all enjoy this thingie that wouldn't leave me alone until I wrote it down.

They stay there, sitting around the table until all conversations fade out and the only sound is the flickering of the flames. It feels very important to be there, somehow, like something was starting, something big. It feels a little like being at the Dawn of Time, watching the universe being born.

The flames flicker and Black Lightning is the first one to leave, heading back to Freeland with the promise of returning whenever he was needed, with backup, too, a faint smell of ozone lingering in his wake.

After that, everyone seems to filter out quietly, going back to their lives, to try and figure out what’s changed and what’s the same, a shared trepidation of finding something’s too irrevocably different, but they’ll all be fine– they’ve got each other’s backs, and honestly, Kara can’t think of anything worse than having Lex Luthor as her boss.

“Need a lift?” Kate asks, smirking a little, and she’s got her mask back on, wig and all, and Kara can’t help a small smile from blooming. 

“I feel like I should be the one asking you that,” she counters, watching the sun setting behind her, washing Kate in orange light. It should not be so flattering, considering all the red she's got going. “Gotham’s a long way to walk.”

Kate raises her eyebrows, head tilting to the side, nodding at a monster of a bike parked nearby. “Who says I’m walking?”

“Okay, that does not look safe,” Kara says, noting the distinct lack of a helmet, “I think I’ll stick to flying, thank you very much.”

It earns her a huff of a snicker and for some reason, she feels the urge to do a victory dance. “So, I guess I’ll see you around?”

“Until the next time the world’s ending,” Kate gives her a two-finger salute, readying herself to drive away on her upgraded bike, key dangling from her fingers.

“Or before,” Kara ends up blurting out, hands flailing more than she wished they would.  _ Rao _ , Kate is always so  _ precise _ , every movement with a destination, with a meaning, with a goal; why can’t Kara be just a bit more graceful? “You know,  _ hopefully _ .”

_ “Ha!” _ Kate snorts, shaking her head, amused, and adds before walking away, “I think I’ll leave the hoping to you.”

Her bike’s engine roars above the low buzzing of the city and Kara watches her drive out onto the road, back to Gotham and whatever waits for her there. Something in her chest constricts and she has the strange feeling she should probably leave the bravery thing to Kate too.

*

Things in National City aren’t exactly normal, but there’s something comforting in having Nia and Alex and J’onn and Brainy knowing Lex’s farce, in not being the only one living in an upside-down world and still being so freaking grateful for it. Now, she can trade a look with Alex over the computers and see the same resigned despair reflected on her eyes. 

It’s only a miracle and very, very careful avoidance that Kara hasn’t run into Lena or Lex yet. She’s not sure she could stomach that, doesn’t want to know what Lex turned Lena into– a puppet? The obedient, starry-eyed sister he wanted? A villain, like him? Kara can’t face that, not yet.

So yeah, maybe she’s just a tiny bit glad when the alarms start ringing. “Where?” She demands, hiding her relief beneath a mask of professionalism. 

“The park,” Brainy calls behind his shoulder, fingers flying over the keys, and he’s frowning, “it seems to be a meta-human, he’s freezing the trees.”

“Okay,” she nods sharply, preparing to take off, “ice powers, got it. It’s time to teach him some chill!”

As she leaves the DEO behind, Kara hears Alex’s groan and just for a little minute, just while she’s flying, everything feels normal, fine. 

Not that it stays that way for much longer, of course. The guy with a weird-ass bowl on his head is a pretty good wake-up call. 

“Okay, okay– hey, ice guy,” she glares, dodging what she supposes is some sort of freeze ray. Behind his goggles, the guy seems to focus on her and away from unsuspecting trees, “I don’t know who you are or what you think you’re doing, but winter is definitely not coming here, pal.”

“I am Mr. Freeze,” ice guy booms, spreading his arms and encasing a terrified duck in a block of ice as he does it, “and no one will stand in my way!”

“So, another megalomaniac, yeah, that tracks,” she shrugs, heat pooling behind her eyes, and the world is already tinting red when a blur flies past her, black and red and as fast as a bat. Kara blinks, huffs. “Oh, come on! Again?”

“Sorry, blondie,” Kate throws her a smirk as she stabs Mr. Freeze with a syringe in the neck where his armor and helmet meet. He crumples in a white-and-blue heap, tied up and ice gun disabled. Never let it be said Batwoman isn’t scarily efficient. “This one’s one of mine.”

Rolling her eyes, Kara lands in front of her, arms crossed and the best grumpy expression she can manage. “I had it covered, you know.”

“Yeah, I don’t doubt it,” she says, pocketing her Batarang in her belt, and okay, it’s been only a week since the Crisis, but Kara had forgotten how it felt to be at the end of Kate’s whole laser-focus. Is this how people feel when she uses her laser vision? She hopes not, it’s very odd to feel like this– like she’s lighting up from the inside out, a whole forest fire sparking somewhere in her chest.

Truthfully, it might just be the turkey sandwich she had earlier, the mayo had tasted a bit off, after all.

“But Freeze's my problem,” she continues, shrugging, “but you're welcome to handle the cleanup if you want?”

Kara glances around. Half the lake is frozen and there are at least half a dozen trees melting. “Nah, I think I'll leave that to the DEO, thank you very much.”

“Right,” Kate grimaces, and now they're slowly moving towards the shade, to one of the benches in the park that isn't wet with melting ice, “and how is  _ that  _ going?”

“Not very good?” Kara sighs, slumping on her seat, drags a hand across her face, “I mean, Lex is still just– parading around as, as! I don't know! A good person that's not a psychopathic evil genius!”

A hand falls on her shoulder and Kara looks up, something loosening in her chest. Kate doesn't offer her a smile but her eyes are sympathetic and surprisingly open like she truly doesn't mind being here, away from Gotham, in National City, sitting in a park bench and listening to Kara's stupid problems. Her hand is warm through the gloves, solid and real. 

“Hey,” says Kate, fingers squeezing her shoulder once, and Kara has to glance away, swallowing thickly, “do you want me to punch him for you?”

Startled, Kara laughs, picturing Batwoman flying to Luthor’s penthouse and decking him in his stupid smug face. “Thanks, but no,” she shakes her head, “I think– we’ll figure something out, it’ll be fine.”

“There she is,” Kate grins, leaning back on the bench, apparently very self-satisfied, “that sounds more like our Paragon of Hope.”

“Maybe I just needed, you know,” she looks up at the sky, stretching indefinitely in all directions, cloudlessly blue, and Kara feels suddenly oddly unmoored. Turning, she catches Kate’s eyes. “A bit of courage.”

It’s Kate’s turn to look away, red hair falling in a curtain as she turns, and her hand retreats back to her lap. “No,” she stands up, brushing dirt and snowflakes from her uniform, and when she looks back at Kara, there’s something shuttered in her eyes, even as she smiles carefully, “I’m pretty sure you’ve got it covered.”

*

Another month goes by and the Lex problem is far from solved but at least the Brainy problem is. It was honestly so weird to have more than one Brainy, she's kinda glad they're down to just  _ their  _ Brainy again.

Anyway, successfully solving one thing makes her feel better about the rest; maybe slow truly does it, maybe she can do this one day at a time, bit by bit.

Maybe Kate was right, maybe she does have this covered.

Maybe she'll even tell Kate that the next time one of her rogues end up in National City– something that, by the way, happened more than she would have expected? Seriously, she ran into Kate at least five other times in this month alone, either fighting someone or following a lead.

Not that she’s complaining, she appreciates the company.

“So,” she says, sitting down with her latte and passing Kate her coffee, “I’m sorry your lead went cold, I can keep an eye out for any shady business going on if you want?”

Kate waves her off, picking up one of the donuts. “No need, Black Mask will turn up soon,” she pauses, moaning around her donut, eyes closing, “shit, you were right, this  _ is  _ the best donut I’ve ever had!”

Pride swells in her chest and satisfaction brings warmth to her cheeks. “Told you,” she makes the executive decision of leaving the sprinkled one for Kate, “but seriously, are you sure? Because it must’ve been urgent for you to come all the way here.”

“Maybe I wanted to see you,” Kate winks, playful like she only ever is out of the uniform, and it’s nice to see her like this, no wig and no mask– just Kate. Once again, something shifts inside Kara. “No, but I mean it, let me handle Black Mask.”

Right, sometimes she forgets how touchy the Bats are about their city. “Okay, your call,” she says mildly, taking a sip of her latte, “but for the record, I  _ am  _ glad you’re here.”

Kate ducks, smiles, then shakes her head as if dispelling a fog. “Tough morning?”

“More like, tough  _ week,”  _ Kara huffs, thinking back at the peacocking Lex has been doing all month, rubbing his success on her face, at Lena’s fond eyes, clear of the anger and betrayal that had been swimming there before the world was reset. Shame rises to her throat at how traitorously happy she still feels sometimes at having Lena on her side again, half-wishing things could stay like this– it makes her nauseous, feeling dirty, almost as bad as Lex. 

“I could still punch him for you?” Kate’s suggestion brings another snort out of her, just like the first time, and also like the first time, Kara’s no doubt she fully means it. It’s nice, she thinks, to have someone in your corner like this. 

“Thanks,” she exhales, hoping to push her worries away along with the air in her lungs, “how about you handle Black Mask and I’ll handle Lex?”

“Damn, that’s a shame. I was kinda hoping to get to punch his smug face,” Kate grins, then grows serious, uncharacteristically soft, reaches for Kara’s hands where they’re resting on the table. Her fingers curl around Kara’s wrist, delicate and precise, and Kara wonders why her heart is stuttering like that, wonders if Kate can feel it through the skin, if she can tell why that’s happening. “Hey, you’ll be okay, you’ll beat him. Maybe not today, maybe not next week, but you’re gonna win this shit.”

Throat tightening oddly, Kara swallows, licks her lips. “Thanks, I– thank you.”

Kate pulls back, thumb brushing one last circle over on the underside of her wrist. “Don’t thank me yet,” she runs a hand through her hair, tattoos catching Kara’s gaze like always, “I’ve still got a favor to ask.”

“A favor? What’s is it?” She straightens up, slipping into a more professional mask, “come on, hit me up.”

Hesitancy crosses Kate’s eyes, but it’s gone in a flash, dismissed as quickly as it materialized, and Kate nods sharply. “I want to come out.”

Kara chokes a little on her latte. “Excuse me? But I thought–”

“No, yeah,  _ I’m  _ already out,” Kate snickers, waiting for her to recover before sobering up, “I had some– look, some reporters got in their heads Batwoman is straight and I just can’t stand for that, not when I could be  _ helping  _ people, you know? So, I think it’s past time Batwoman gives an interview.”

“Oh,” Kara blinks, processing, “that’s– I’m sorry, people do like to just  _ assume  _ stuff.”

“So you’ll do it? The interview?”

“Oh,” she says again, “you want  _ me  _ to interview, er, Batwoman?”

“There’s no one else I’d trust with this,” Kate shrugs, indifferent, and Kara wants to do her victory dance again because, from all she’s learned about the Bats and Gotham and  _ Kate,  _ trust is not something so easily given, but this is not the first time Kate showed her the extent of hers in Kara. It’s– a strange tangle of emotions knots themselves in her ribcage.

“Then, of course, I’ll do it,” Kara smiles.  _ This  _ she can do. 

“Thank you,” she says, a grin finally breaking on her face, “I’ll call you later to schedule it?”

Kara has a feeling Andrea won’t be too mad if she delays a few articles in favor of an exclusive with freaking Batwoman. “Sounds great, whenever you want.”

Her latte is getting cold but Kara can’t quite bring herself to hurry– if anything, she takes her time eating the donuts, sipping her beverage; the sun is shining especially bright today, reflecting off Kate’s hair and blinding Kara to anything else around the world.

*

Gotham is still dark, and grim, and oppressively rude, and Kara, superpowers and all, feels the need to clutch her bag a little tighter and keep her head down as she makes her way to the Kane penthouse– because Kate has a  _ penthouse,  _ that’s a  _ thing,  _ because Kate is  _ rich.  _ How is it that Kara keeps befriending millionaires?

“Oh, hello,” says the girl who opens the door and is definitely not Kate. She has a friendly smile and very sad eyes, and she reminds Kara a little of Lena, if only a little softer, kinder, friendlier. “I’m Mary, can I help you?”

Right, Mary Hamilton, Kate’s stepsister. “Hi, I’m Kara Danvers– the reporter? Kate said to just come here instead of Wayne Tower? I’m sorry, I know how this sounds but I swear I’m not just some tabloid–”

_ “You’re  _ Kara?” Mary’s whole face lights up and Kara is faintly happy for Kate, she remembers how miserable she had been talking about when her step-sister had been at odds with her. Now, Mary waves her in, grinning wide, “come in, come in, Kate’s talked  _ so much  _ about you! It’s so nice to finally meet you, seriously, I feel like I already know you–”

This is all happening rather fast, but Kara tries to keep up with Mary’s words, following her to a large, open-concept living room, talking a mile a minute. “Thanks, I– she talked about me? I mean! She talked a lot about you too!”

“Really? Because I swear, it’s like pulling teeth with her when it comes to this stuff–”

“Kara!” It’s Kate, rounding a corner and looking sorta alarmed at her sister, eyes going between them as if she’s assessing the situation, and for the first time, Kara thinks she might be a little wrong-footed, even if it’s only for a second. “Thank you for agreeing to this,” she pauses in front of Kara with a small smile and Kara hesitates– should they hug? Shake hands? What’s the protocol here now that there’s no villain to serve as a buffer? She waits too long and the moment passes, Kate turning her focus to Mary and leaving Kara feeling slightly disappointed, bereft. “Don’t start– she’s here for an interview.”

Mary’s smile becomes sly. “Sure, see you later Kate, it was very nice to meet you Kara, come by anytime. Have fun!”

She takes her leave like a hurricane, the dull sound of the door closing behind her almost jarring in the silence that stays after her.

“Sorry about that,” Kate grimaces, half-apologetic, “we're still– she resents Sophie, I think, and she thinks I should have more friends, that's all.”

Again, Kara tries to match the name with a face, coming up with very little information– ex-girlfriend, married, works in security, messy breakup. Though,  _ messy  _ isn't exactly the word she'd use, not when she clearly hurt Kate then and is most likely hurting her again now. Whoever Sophie is, Kara would very much like to have a few  _ words  _ with her.

Yeah, after all, Kara knows a little about messy breakups. 

_ It’s not the same, though,  _ she reminds herself; her situation with Lena isn’t complicated like Kate’s with Sophie is, like hers with Mon-El had been. If she had more time, if she were alone, perhaps Kara would examine why she’s holding them all to the same level, or why her chest is aching bitterly for no good reason at all.

Everything is so  _ complicated  _ these days.

“It's okay, I know how sisters can be,” she smiles, forcing herself to be very still when Kate sits down beside her in the couch, knees touching hers, “so, how do you want to do this?”

Kate sighs, not quite a scowl on her face but none of the playfulness from before either. “Here is as secure as it can be,” she says, glancing out the large windows, and Kara wants to ask about the Batcave, a few fragmented memories of Oliver mentioning the secrecy around Batman and his dislike of meta-humans in general the only things keeping her away from the topic. She’s not about to pry into someone else’s secret, not when Kate is already going against what her cousin would have liked for their city just by inviting Kara there. 

Something about Kate– it gives Kara pause, recorder dropping to her lap. There’s a tiredness clinging to the corner of her eyes, taking up space where laughter lines should be, and while she’s going through the motions of this conversation as natural as ever, it’s clear she’s not wholly there. Wherever she is, Kate’s mind must be worrying and unhappy if the way her eyebrows keep knitting minutely, a crinkle in her forehead that Kara is itching to smooth over with her fingers. She wonders if Kate will feel cool to the touch against Kara’s sun-charged skin, Kryptonians always do run a little hotter than most humans. 

A blink.  _ Jesus,  _ where’s this coming from?

In any case. “Hey, are you sure you’re okay?” She hovers a little before deciding to place her hand on Kate’s knee, just an inch above the rip on her jeans. It’s more tempting than it has any right to be. “We don’t have to do this today, you look tired.”

Kate shakes her head, seeming to dispel a stormy cloud of thoughts, and looks warily at Kara, eyes seizing her like she’s still unsure how genuine the question is, how much is out of politeness. It’s almost offensive, really, Kate should know better by now. 

She really,  _ really  _ should know better by now, considering how long they spent in the Vanishing Point, before the timeline reset, before things hit the fan and then more or less fixed themselves. 

Then, Kate sighs again, not deflating but maybe unsteeling. “Alice has gone underground,” she admits, running a hand through her hair, “and there’s only so much I can do until she resurfaces again.”

So she’s probably running herself ragged the whole night. Kara frowns. “I’m sorry,” she says, biting her lip, “it never gets easy, having to stop people you love,  _ family.” _

“She killed Mary’s mother,” the words leave her lips through gritted teeth, and Kate is now glaring at the tiled floor like it’s personally responsible for every bad thing that’s going on. The faraway look in her eyes returns, fogging over, “you know, when I took Bruce’s place I didn’t think– it wasn’t supposed to be  _ Beth.” _

Today is a bad day, Kara recognizes with terrible clarity, one of those where everything weighs a little heavier on your shoulders. There’s not much to be done in those times, she knows from experience. Saying  _ I’m sorry  _ again feels awfully inadequate. Instead, she shuffles a little closer, subtly trying to telegraph  _ I’m here, it doesn’t have to be lonelier than it already is.  _ “Once,” Kara clears her throat, “my aunt and uncle tried to take over the world in the worst way possible and I had to stop them. They’re dead now. My point is– Beth  _ isn’t.  _ There’s still hope. She’ll appear again and you’ll stop her, get her the help she needs.”

“How can you be so sure?” Kate looks up at her with clear eyes, greenish-blue like a bottomless ocean, tides warring over each other with tall waves of emotion. Kara likes to think this is better than the fog, than the tar-like glaze. You can’t see through fog, but every storm clears eventually. “There’s not many places for hope in Gotham.”

“That’s okay,” Kara says decidedly, meeting her gaze steadily, head-on, “I can do the hoping for you.”

Kate smiles, a small, weak, sad thing, brittle, and it’s not a smirk and it’s not the malleable plastic she gives the media. It’s just that, a smile, and Kara commits it to memory like a treasure map.

*

Her computer screen gives off blue light, illuminating her face in the rapidly darkening room, but Kara’s fingers still hover unsurely over the keys, the blank page mocking her just like it’s been doing for the past hour.

Beside her laptop, her recorder sits, red light blinking, and Kara is tempted to run it again, listen to the whole interview one more time to try and find the right words for this. The article is important for Kate, for  _ Batwoman,  _ and for so many people– it could be huge, it could be a great thing,  _ inspiring.  _ But only if Kara gets it right; there’ll be no do-over for this.

Sure, the main purpose of the interview is for Kate to come out, but they didn’t just talk about that. The lines got blurred. Kate told her about West Point and Sophie, about waiting in her bike for Sophie to come out of the building, a thousand plans for the future already bubbling in her mind, never once thinking about Sophie’s side of things.  _ I was being selfish,  _ she had told Kara,  _ I’m still being selfish, I think.  _ Her voice had been horribly sad and Kara thinks  _ complicated  _ had been both an understatement and exaggeration on the state of things. 

In turn, Kara had thought it was only fair for her to tell her about Lena and all the snowball of tragedies that brought on, her own voice stilted and cracking at the edges. About Myriad and Andrea and how confusing everything had become at the end.

Halfway through, though, Luke had texted, calling Kate away to deal with someone they had called Killer Croc over the phone. Kate had been apologetic and guilty, but– here’s the thing, Kara truly gets it. She had told her so, too. Supergirl had had to exit stage left many times over the years.

It’s nice, she thinks, not to have to lie about that.

And now, here Kara is, fretting over how to even start the article, how to be truthful to Kate’s story, live up to the trust she’s placing on her. 

She wonders what it means that she’s worrying so much.

*

_ Thank you,  _ Kate texts her while Kara is still reeling from the outpouring of reactions the article has sparked, and she can’t help grinning madly at her phone, heart running a marathon around her ribs.

“You look happy,” Nia tells her much later when they’re patrolling together to avoid the DEO and Lex and his lies, “do you want to know what I dreamt about last night?”

“Shoot,” says Kara, unbothered by her remark.

“There was a field of wildflowers,” she pauses at the edge of the roof, frowning in concentration, “and a bat was flying high even though the sun was shining very bright in the sky. Do you know what it means?”

Her chest aches hopefully. Kara thinks she’s beginning to understand now. “I might have an idea.”

“The sun usually has to do with you,” Nia shrugs, “but I was thinking the bat might have to do with that friend of yours from Gotham. That’s all I got though, sorry.”

“That’s okay,” Kara smiles, knocking her shoulders with Nia’s in comfort, letting her know it’s alright not to know everything, she’s still learning how to interpret her dreams, after all. “I like a little mystery.”

Nia blinks. “You really do look happy,” grins, “I’m glad.”

*

The months spent in the Vanishing Point are both sharp and fuzzy in her memory. Some days they feel like minutes spent in someplace far away, in suspended animation, a blink compared to the enormity of their task. In others, though, lingering grief turns them into years of stretched out nothingness, a lifetime of blank repetitions.

Somehow, it always feels like a world of its own– nearly enough to make Kara wonder if it hadn't all been a dreadful nightmare, a delusion from the anti-matter wave.

But then, she looks at Kate now and it's so painfully familiar, those terrible months have to be real. She remembers Kate training endlessly in the shadows, tiring herself out for days on end, working until she would collapse in a corner somewhere to sleep fitfully, and she remembers curling at her side and feeling a little less alone, red cape still clutched tightly in her fingers.

When she closes her eyes, she can still hear their whispered conversations, half plans and half rants, too desperate and sad to be anywhere useful. Mostly, it was only to keep the silence at bay.

To be reminded there was at least one other person in the whole universe.

Anyway.

Somedays the Vanishing Point feels very far away, but Kate is always close, sharp in focus, a streak of red in the dull grey landscape.

Kara resolutely does not think about those months, accepting the shifts in dynamic as only natural, a fast forward of more pleasant times.

*

“Alex,” Kara says quietly, huddling closer to her pillow, phone pressed to her ear and a hundred and two thoughts swimming in her head. No, that’s not right, it’s just one, just the one thought about just the one person. 

Across the line, she hears her sister yawn. “Yeah? Everything alright?”

“Yes. No. I don’t know,” she closes her eyes, trying to keep everything contained, all the cards laid orderly on the table. Facts, questions, answers– if she goes over it like one of her stories, then it’s easier to figure it out, to see the bigger picture from the puzzle. Or maybe it’s not that Kara can’t finish the puzzle, it’s just that she owes it to Kate to make sure it really fits the image on the box. She exhales and in the same breath, asks, “how do you know you’re in love?”

“What?” Alex’s frown it’s clear even through the phone, the sounds of the rustling of covers probably meaning she’s sitting up in bed. A low murmur, muffled; Kelly is there, too, then. A door opening and closing. “What’s going on?”

“How do I know it’s love?” Kara rephrases her question, tries to shift the pieces so it’s easier to make anything out, “I liked James and Carter and Ioved Mon-El, and I think I could’ve fallen in love with Lena– but I didn’t– it’s easier to realize how I felt later, after things were already sorted out. I need to know– how do I know it’s love  _ now?” _

_ Before I go and say something I don’t mean, before I make a mess of things, before I risk the best thing that’s happened all year, before I hurt someone who’s been hurt too much already. _

Alex pauses. “Did you just say you were in love with Lena?”

“I said I  _ could  _ have fallen in love with Lena,” she corrects, biting the inside of her cheek, “things– changed. The moment passed, the timing isn’t right anymore.”

_ I met someone else,  _ she doesn't add.

“Yeah, it’s probably– sorry,” Alex sounds rattled, and Kara supposes that’s fair; this is all a lot to dump on someone without warning. “I’m just– is this you coming out?”

Kara smiles, not necessarily nervous, but still a bit anxious. Did she wait too long to do this? Things were different in Krypton and by the time Kara realized she actually needed to come out and say something, it never felt like the right time. And then Alex came out and it felt– she doesn’t know. Maybe she is nervous after all. “In part, yes. Sorry, I should probably have done this in person.”

“So you are…” Alex trails off, probably not wanting to assume anything. She’s considerate like that.

“Bisexual,” Kara says, testing out the word. Yeah, it feels  _ right,  _ saying it out loud. As if that makes it properly real– no,  _ official.  _ Kara Danvers is bisexual.  _ Supergirl  _ is bisexual. “I’m sorry I never said anything sooner, maybe if I had, it would’ve been easier for you, but–”

“Don’t– there’s nothing to apologize for,” Alex says softly, gently, “everyone has their own time. Thank you for trusting me with this.”

Kara wonders if this is what Alex had wanted to hear when  _ she  _ first came out. Yeah, Kara really could have handled that one better. “Thank you," she swallows, breathes, “you're the best sister in the world, did you know?”

There's a quiet huff that Kara recognizes as Alex breathing out a laugh. “I love you too,” she pauses for a second, “so now that we got  _ that  _ out of the way, what's  _ really  _ going on? Is this about Kate?”

Something cold weights on her gut and Kara chokes on nothing. “Is it that obvious?”

_ Am I that obvious? _

“Relax,” now there’s definitely the sound of Alex snickering, “I just know you, I don’t think she’s noticed it yet.”

Boldened by the rush of relief talking about it brings her, Kara takes a deep breath. “I have feelings for her, I just don’t know if it’s love,” then, she adds quieter, hesitant as if this was the real secret all along, “I really want it to be love.”

“You know,” Alex begins, “mom used to say  _ you like someone because and love them despite of.” _

“That sounds like she was quoting something,” Kara replies, almost sullenly, “what does it even mean?”

“She probably was, yeah, but it’s not wrong– it’s easy to like someone because of their qualities, but loving someone means staying despite their flaws. It means knowing all the stuff that annoys you about them, that you don’t necessarily like, and choosing to be there anyway. I like Kelly because she’s beautiful and ridiculously smart, and I love her despite her being a bit of a know-it-all.”

“Kate’s so beautiful, and smart, and so, so brave,” Kara says, rolling on her bed so she feels less like she’s reciting a prayer, “I like that about her. I like that she’s trying to keep her city safe and still save her sister. I even like how she’s always smirking like she knows something no one does. I like how she cares and how determined she is. I like how she never gives up.”

Alex sounds like she’s still smiling. “And?”

“And I don’t know,” Kara whines, plainly whines, covering her face with her arm.

“I think you do,” Alex counters, mild and steady, “but for the record, you seem a hell of a lot happier now that she’s around.”

Her conversation with Nia on the roof claws its way to the forefront of her mind and Kara blushes even though no one is there. Nonsensically, she feels sort of guilty about it. As if she shouldn’t get to be this happy when so much is still going on, half-afraid the universe will come collect its due later– so far, her happiness has always been more or less on borrowed time.

“I have– I need to think about this,” she finally settles, “thanks for listening.”

“I hope I’ve helped a little,” says Alex, yawning, “will you be okay?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” glancing out her window, Kara can see the stars, too bright to be swallowed by the city lights, “go back to sleep. And tell Kelly I say hi.”

Alex is probably rolling her eyes. “See you tomorrow, try and get some sleep too, alright?”

Sleep does claim her sooner rather than later, and Kara drifts off to dream about a field of wildflowers, two hands reaching for each other, the sun shining warmly over their skin, and Kate’s smile softer than the grass under their feet.

*

Movie night is a fairly regular occurrence, especially after the Crisis, and there’s honestly no telling who might show up.

Tonight, besides Alex, Brainy, Nia, and Kelly, a lot more people are crowded inside Kara’s living room. Barry, Cisco, Sara, and Ray are all spread out on the couches and armchairs, swapping tales of their latest adventures and bitching about their hurdles.

It’s– nice. More than nice. Better.

And now, of course–

“Hey, I come bearing gifts,” Kate grins, holding up a six-pack of beers in each hand, and Kara is taken aback by how unfairly good she looks under the fluorescent lights of her building’s hallway, sharp and bold in her leather jacket, and for a second, Kara stays there, rooted to the spot while her brain reboots. 

Sara and Cisco push her out of the way first.  _ “Thank you,”  _ Cisco mouths happily as they run off with the booze, disappearing back into the living room.

“Hi, sorry,” Kara shakes herself into moving, waving Kate in with a smile, “come in, we’re watching _ The Wizard of Oz  _ tonight. It was Barry’s turn to pick, so. I lucked out, I guess.”

“That’s your favorite movie, right?” Kate follows her into the fray, throwing a half-hearted greeting to the room before sitting on the floor beside Kara in the conveniently only open seat left. Well, not  _ only,  _ she could have chosen anywhere else in the carpet to seat, after all, but it would be sort of impolite– okay, yeah, this is probably what Alex means about Kara  _ overthinking  _ things. 

“Yup,” Kara nods, passing Barry the remote, “I know all the songs by heart at this point, really. And the dialogues. Maybe. I might have been in my high school rendition of the musical too.”

Kate’s eyebrows rise and she stretches her legs, crossing them at the ankle, and Kara forces herself not to track the movement with her eyes. “I would’ve paid a lot of money to see that, please tell me someone recorded the whole thing.”

“Don’t laugh!” She hits her arm lightly, earning said a huff of said laughter, and hugs the popcorn bowl closer, “you can’t make fun of me, I’m holding the popcorn hostage now.”

“I’m not! I think it’s cute– actually, it’s adorable,” Kate is grinning, eyes glittering with humor, with mischief, with  _ something,  _ “so will you release the popcorn or is this going to escalate to a hostage negotiation?”

“I haven’t heard any negotiating yet,” Kara says haughtily, holding the bowl out of reach.

If possible, Kate’s grin grows wider, sharper. Prettier.  _ Deadlier.  _ “I guess I’ll just have to try harder to convince you.”

It knocks the breath out of her lungs, something hungry brewing somewhere down her chest, and Kara needs to say something soon before it gets awkward, needs to get her shit together and stop melting every time Kate maybe-flirts with her.  _ This doesn’t have to mean anything.  _ This is just how Kate is. She smirks and teases and, and  _ whatever,  _ but it doesn’t have any deeper meaning. There’s no need for Kara or Alex for that matter, to read anything into it.

_ And she really, really needs to stop having a meltdown over it. _

As it is, she is accidentally saved by Sara, who throws popcorn at them with a half-hearted shush.

Barry, on the other hand, is not helpful  _ at all _ when he adds, “yeah, quit flirting so loud, the movie’s starting.”

Now Kara is frigging  _ blushing,  _ she knows she must be because her cheeks feel hot and heat is crawling up her neck, but Kate only laughs, leaning over her to rescue the popcorn bowl from Kara’s numb fingers with a, a  _ playful  _ wink.

_ Rao,  _ tonight is going to be the death of her.

Because now that Kara is aware of her feelings, it’s like she’s opened a door she doesn’t know how to close again. Someone has turned off the lights and Kara sneaks a look at Kate, and she is so  _ close,  _ Kara can’t bring herself to look away, too busy tracing her profile, following the lines of her tattoos down her collarbone, disappearing under her shirt, and something is shifting on her chest like her ribcage is cracking open and all these  _ emotions  _ are pouring out– she looks at Kate and she  _ wants  _ and wants and wants, and it all feels rooted down to her bones, so deep down inside her being that it would bleed her dry to try and pluck them out like wildflowers.

It feels so much it hurts.

Can you be addicted to something you never tasted?

Is this how love aches?

_ I shall take the heart,  _ the Tin Woodsman is saying on the screen, and Kara forces herself to look away. It doesn’t matter, anyway, Kate’s image is burned in the back of her eyelids, filling the dark with leather jackets and dangerous smiles.

*

“You should tell her,” Alex says, “you really should tell her how you feel.”

It’s a very rehearsed argument at this point and Kara is tired of explaining there’s little room in Kate’s life, in Kate’s heart, that isn’t Gotham, or Beth, or  _ Sophie.  _ She doesn’t want to be another Reagan. She’d rather wait in silence and, well,  _ hope,  _ than rush in and ruin everything.

Things are fine now, they’re  _ friends,  _ and Kara genuinely loves being her  _ friend,  _ why should she put that in jeopardy? Friendship isn’t less than a romance. It can be enough; she can be  _ content. _

“It’s not the same as happy, though, is it?” Alex always replies, mouth in a thin line. “Won’t you trust me on this? I’ve seen how she looks at you.”

Sometimes, she wishes Alex wouldn’t say things like that.

“You won’t ever be one hundred percent sure, Kara,” she adds, “it’s a leap of faith– you gotta jump and trust she’s going to catch you.”

Maybe that’s the problem, Kara is too used to be the one doing the catching.

*

She’s fine, this is fine, it’s all fine.

*

“You’re pining,” Barry tells her, “it’s a little sad to watch– not that I’m one to talk, but. Yeah, it’s kinda sad, you should tell her how you feel.”

*

Oliver’s memorial has nothing to say on this matter.

*

Not that Oliver would know what to say– he’d probably tell her to talk to Barry about it.

*

_ “Tell her how you feel, _ oh my god,” Barry groans, draining the last of his milkshake, “seriously, please, just go over to Gotham and confess your undying love, Kate’s been grumpier than usual– she  _ growled  _ at me to get out of her city, Kara.  _ Growled.  _ And I didn’t even  _ want  _ to be there. Just tell her how you feel so I don’t have to fear for my life every time the Trickster decides to wander out of Central City.”

*

Somehow Kate owning a gay club comes as less of a surprise than one would think. Sure, she’s got the vigilante gig at night and keeping Wayne Tower in one piece seems to be trouble enough, but Kara can’t think of anything Kate can’t do if she puts her mind to it.

_ Especially  _ if it’s out of spite.

“I could punch that guy for you,” Kara offers after Kate finishes the story, anger simmering under the surface only mitigated by Kate’s own petty vengeance, “seriously, one hit and he’d be out like a light.”

Kate laughs. The music is loud here but it still somehow rings clearer than anything. “Thanks, but I need him awake to see this place.”

“Pity, I’m pretty sure punching bigots is in my job description by now,” she shrugs, not-so-fake disappointed. They’re in one of the booths, secluded away from most of the crowd, alone after the others left for the dancefloor; it might have been an excuse, although there’s not enough information for her to be totally sure. “So,” she says, sipping her drink unconcernedly, “Barry said you were in a bad mood last week.”

To be fair, Kate  _ does  _ look regretful at the reminder, pouring herself another shot. “Yeah, I should probably apologize to him later,” they both look at the crowd, searching for Barry and sharing a laugh at his uncoordinated moves. “Man, you’d think he’d be better at dancing, all things considered.”

“Maybe it’s a good thing nazis from another dimension crashed his wedding– can you imagine him trying to  _ waltz?” _

“That,” Kate keeps laughing, head tilting back, and Kara watches the curve of her neck, wishes to cover it with kisses until she’s shivering under her lips. “Sounds like a story I want to hear later.”

She shakes her head. “It’s not a very fun story, really, I shouldn’t have joked,” she hurries to add, “but I did have time to sing before the shoot-out!”

“Of course you can sing,” Kate huffs, leaning back on her seat, shakes her head, and the way she’s looking at Kara, it’s all a bit too much, it leaves her unsteady, drunk like the alcohol didn’t. It barely registers what an odd thing that is to fixate on. When she continues, it’s just a murmur, probably not meant for Kara to hear, “why wouldn’t you? You’re  _ perfect.” _

Perhaps she should have taken it as a compliment or nothing at all since she wasn’t meant to hear anyway, but Kara still feels vaguely betrayed. Thinking someone is perfect only means you don’t know them at all and she had thought– being hopelessly hopeful, she thought Kate knew her deeper than that, more honest than that, past Supergirl and Kara Danvers down to whatever is left under both.

“I’m not perfect,” the need to point out is greater than the disappointment swirling in her gut.

“Oh, no, I know that,” Kate waves her off, leaning back in on her elbows, glass half-empty on her fingers, glinting in the colorful lights, and she just looks so, so  _ painfully  _ beautiful, “you can be self-righteous sometimes and you trust  _ way  _ too easily. You’re too optimistic and also, when you nap, you drool. I know you’re not  _ perfectly  _ perfect, you’re just…” she gestures in her vague direction, making a face and downing the rest of her drink.

And Kara. She lets the words sink in and thinks  _ oh. _

She thinks  _ oh  _ and she hears Alex’s words on her head, voice wavering into Eliza’s even though she never heard Eliza say that, and she knows with blinding clarity that this cannot be a dream because Kara’s never been more awake in her whole life.

If anything, it’s as if she’s finally,  _ finally,  _ awake.

“You brood a lot,” she hears herself saying, “and you can be a little self-centered, and you can be a little arrogant, too.”

Kate has set her glass down and she’s now staring at Kara like she’s trying to solve a particularly difficult puzzle, “ouch,” she fakes a wince distractedly, “harsh, but you’re not denying the drooling, I see.”

“Kate,” Kara says, heart trembling in her chest, and maybe this is why Kate is the Paragon of Courage– she feels a lot braver when she’s with her; it’s easy to fall and trust she’ll catch her. “Kate, I could give you infinite reasons why I like you, and I love you despite all I said. I think I could love you despite anything, really, and I’ve  _ been  _ loving you despite that, too.”

For one terrifying second, Kate says nothing, frozen into perfect stillness, but then she’s rounding the table to stop in front of Kara, looking down at her as if she’s watching the whole universe unfold, openly vulnerable, as if she can’t quite believe this is real, and Kara wants and wants and  _ wants. _

And when Kate finally leans down, she’s already meeting her halfway.

Her lips are soft and her hands are in Kara’s hair, and Kara was right, Kate’s skin is blessedly cool against her own feverish touch, and the world ends and begins in the inches between them they steal with each new kiss.

It’s terrifyingly addicting.

People are all made of stardust, Kara even more so, maybe that’s why for her, Kate feels an awful lot like coming home.

“Kara,” Kate whispers her name against her lips like a prayer, and her eyes are still shut even as she presses her forehead against Kara’s, “I love you, I do, but I really need you to be sure. Are you sure?”

_ Are you sure you can love me,  _ she hears, unsaid.

“I’m sure,” Kara answers, kissing her softly, a fleeting press of lips, just because she can, and then another, just because prayers are never recited only once, and one more because neither should promises, not if you intend to keep them, “I love you, that’s all.”

Kate smiles.

It’s more beautiful than any sun.

“That’s all,” she echoes, and it’s as simple as that, “I love you,” she says and holds Kara like she’s a delicate thing, even as her fingers dig wonderfully into her hips.

In the end, Kara thinks she’ll take the heart too, and with Kate pressing yet another kiss, her mind clears, and she thinks nothing at all.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> if you liked this, you can always come talk with me about this ship and these shows on [my tumblr](https://evelyn-hugc.tumblr.com)!


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